


I'll Watch Over You

by Libruuhhh



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 04:43:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5525798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Libruuhhh/pseuds/Libruuhhh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At first, watching over Dean was a mandatory task, but Castiel began to love it, especially while Dean slept.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Watch Over You

At first, watching over Dean was a mandatory task for Castiel. Being the one who raised his damned soul out of hell and breathed fresh, new air into his smoke-filled lungs, Castiel had to watch Dean as often as he could to make sure nothing bad happened to him. During the day he would stop in from time to time to see how he was doing, how he was feeling, if anything seemed to be upsetting him, but once he got his usual answer of “I’m fine, Cas,” he would fly back to Heaven and wait a few more hours until checking in again, only to get the same responses every time. Castiel enjoyed his friendly chats with Dean when he flew to see him. Their talks made Castiel more comfortable around other humans like Sam and Bobby, and, well, he didn’t feel so different from them once they started to talk. He liked to converse with Dean every day. Knowing that he was the one responsible for Dean’s well being made him feel important, like he had a purpose in life other than the occasional healing or miracle. He was the reason Dean was walking on Earth instead of burning in Hell, and every time Dean gave him a smile or a wink or a pat on the back, he couldn’t help but feel loved, even with these small gestures of appreciation. He belonged here, protecting Dean from any harm. Even though Castiel thought that conversing with Dean was the best task he had ever been put on Earth to do for a human, his favorite way of caring for Dean was watching over him as he slept.

  
Castiel noticed that Dean rarely got enough sleep. He would drive and drive and drive, drink some coffee, drive some more, and then finally crash at a cheap motel for a few hours only to get up, shower, and repeat the process again. These few hours while Dean slept, however, were what he looked forward to the most, and Dean had absolutely no idea that he did this. Sure, in the back of Castiel’s mind, he knew that a human would most likely find this interaction a bit uncomfortable and maybe slightly disturbing, but as long as Dean didn’t know, Castiel could fully engulf himself in his small pleasure. Castiel would watch silently from the window of whatever motel Dean was at this time around, feeling slightly embarrassed as he watched Dean unbutton his plaid, slide off his jeans, pull off his socks, and yank off his usual black tee shirt, only going to sleep in a pair of plaid boxers. As soon as Dean’s head hit the pillow, Castiel knew he was out like a light, completely exhausted from whatever drive he had taken to find a case. Castiel took this advantage and flew into the room, the only sound being the gentle flap of Castiel’s great wings closing in behind him as he sat in whatever chair was closest to Dean. He’d sit there all night until Dean began to stir, and he would quickly take his leave in order to prevent Dean from knowing that he had been there all night, not taking an eye off of him.

  
Castiel began to take note of certain things as Dean slept. The first thing was how gentle Dean’s breathing became, and how his heart rate slowed down to a more calm, less anxious pace. During the day Dean was always on edge, nervous about a case, scared about a hunt, or worried about having Michael use his body as a vessel. His heart beat pretty quickly during the day and he was always in attack mode, ready to pounce on anything that gave him the slightest hint of danger. At night, however, Dean fell into a peaceful state of mind. Castiel knew he felt comfort in sleep because just for a few hours, Dean could escape reality and drift off to a land where he no longer had to be the vessel for an archangel and no longer had to fight off the evils of the world. He traveled to a place where his mother was still alive, Sam was a Stanford Law Graduate, and his father didn’t pressure him so much to keep the family business up and running. Castiel, of course, knew these things only because of the profound bond they shared. No other angel could do this to a human. Only Cas could with Dean. He liked watching Dean breathe, a sign of life, the life that he gave back to Dean, the little rises and falls of his chest with each inhalation and exhalation, the chest that he stitched back together with his grace. With every small sigh Dean let escape from his lips, Castiel couldn’t help but feel such love for Dean. He loved him because he gave Castiel something to live for.

  
There were a few other things that Castiel noticed while Dean was asleep. He observed the way he would shudder in his deep slumber from a nightmare, typically one from Hell, and all Castiel wanted to do was wrap him up in his arms and tell him that he will never ever have to return to that fiery pit in his life, that he was guaranteed a spot in Heaven once his time came, that Castiel would be waiting for him, arms open wide, always and forever. Instead, Castiel would lightly touch Dean’s forehead to calm the ever raging storm he trapped in his mind. He also noted the way that the moonlight fell on Dean’s body as he turned in his sleep, illuminating the blond hairs on his chest, casting shadows and highlights on his face and torso, making him glow as if he were the one with the grace inside of him, not Castiel. He shone like the stars in the night sky, and Castiel wished he could show Dean how beautiful he truly was. Instead, he took in the sight before him and prayed that one day, Dean Winchester would understand his importance, and he would smile, and that smile would be worth more than any of his prayers he had sent to the stars above.

  
Castiel knew that Dean was suffering. He knew that Dean had a throbbing pain in his heart, a constant anxiety that he was never going to do the right thing. Dean was torn between two impossible tasks and he didn’t know which one would do less damage. All Castiel wanted to do was help him, hold him, make him believe in himself the way that Castiel believed in him. Castiel knew that Dean would find another way around the Apocalypse and that things would eventually be okay, that this tsunami of constant worry and stress would dissipate into smaller waves, and in due time, the swells would become gentle ripples in a pond. He understood Dean’s distress and anger and frustration and Castiel just wanted to shield him from these emotions with his wings, but he knew that things could only build up so much before breaking down. Castiel thought of all these things as he watched Dean toss gently in his sleep, knowing that even if Dean were to wake up and suddenly everything in the world was right again, he would continue to protect him as if the world was crumbling down around them.


End file.
